Fiction and Fragments
by Gypsy Love
Summary: Emma chooses to write about Craig for a school assignment.
1. Chapter 1

Ms. Kwan was being her usual self, talking about literature and literary devices and all of that. Then she said something a little odd.

"Memory is fiction," For some reason that struck me as odd, and it got me thinking in a way I hadn't planned on thinking. I looked over at Manny doodling in her notebook. The sun gleamed off of her flat black hair. J.T. had that little smirk on his face as he watched Ms. Kwan and watched the clock.

"If you write a memory you choose to write about certain things, not about others. You can't represent the whole thing so you represent certain things, changing it in that subtle way from the fact it was to a fiction you are imagining, based on real things, or remembered things you think are real,"

Manny's doodles were not that good but she made a lot of them. Liberty jotted down notes, stared with intensity toward the front of the room. That's one thing I'd always envied about Liberty, her ability to focus.

"It's the same with people. Even if you are writing about a real person, you describe them one way, you write about certain things and not others, and you start to make things up. The real person becomes a fictional one,"

I sighed. I could sense a writing project coming along. It was easier to do these writing projects when my room wasn't in the basement.

"What I want you to do is write about someone you know, someone who is not in this class. It will be a character sketch. Take what you know and write about that, fill in the rest. You will have turned a real person into a fictional one,"

We filed out, burdened by one of Kwan's bizarre writing assignments, but I didn't know, this one seemed like it might be kind of fun.

At home in my basement I tried to think of a good subject. Manny would have been easiest, since I knew her best, but she was in the class. Sean? No, that would be too bitter. My mom? Nah. Who had the most drama, the most turmoil, the most character flaws?

Craig Manning.

Funny, I hadn't really thought about him in a long time. The last time I even talked to him was when he was freaking out in the hallway because Manny was going to have an abortion. Two years ago. Yeah. I hadn't even spoken to him since then. But he had undeniable appeal, as far as literature went. I took out my pad of paper and tried to write.

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He was tall, his hair dark and curly, and his eyes were hazel but sometimes looked brown. He looked kind of sad when he thought no one was looking.

Oh this sucked. This was harder than it looked. Writing about him made me remember when I had that stupid crush on him when he first showed up at Degrassi. Boy did that crush crash and burn when he asked Manny to dance and I was left all alone. Oh, I could write about that, a memory and a person who was not in Kwan's class with me.

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Everyone was dressed in the styles of 20 years ago, big hair and bad make-up and pastel clothes. My best friend and me had snuck into the dance. Craig, the boy who helped us sneak in, he tipped his hat and walked into the crowd. He was dressed as a punk rocker in tight jeans and a ripped sleeveless T-shirt. I'd never heard of the rock star he dressed up as but I thought he looked sexy anyway. Then a slow song started to play and he came toward us, and my best friend whispered that he was coming to ask me to dance. He talked to me, a few polite words and then turned his attention to my friend.

"Manny," he said, "do you want to dance?" She looked at me in a panic and I swallowed and felt the tears coming, but I swallowed them back and smiled hard.

"It's okay," I said, "you two go. I'll just stay here,"

This was awful, and it was making me feel bad. I didn't realize I had so many negative memories associated with Craig. Maybe I could write more about him, less about me.

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He left the birthday party, calling out thanks as he still held the hot dog and walked away. The camera was slung over his shoulder along with his school bag. He didn't want to go home. He had to. Sooner or later he always had to.

"Uh, hi dad," he said, trying to keep the nervous sound out of his voice and failing. What if his father knew he was at a party with Joey and Angela? What would happen then?

"Craig, where have you been?" his father said, staring at him in that way that meant trouble. Craig shrugged, mumbled "nowhere" and tried to go to his room. His dad grabbed his arm and stopped him.

"You're not going anywhere, do you hear me? You weren't at a party with Angela, were you?"

"N-no, I wasn't, I swear-"

"You're lying," The hand that held his arm swung him around, and his father grabbed the other arm and pulled him closer, he shouted in his face, "why do you lie to me?"

Craig didn't answer, couldn't answer, but shook with fear, squeezed his eyes shut.

Oh my. Where did that come from? I knew his dad abused him, everyone pretty much knew that was why he lived with Joey but I was there that night they dragged him out of the cemetery. He'd run away. I didn't know the details of his experiences with his father, he didn't talk about it and I'd never asked. We weren't good enough friends for me to ask. In fact, we weren't friends at all.

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Thrown against the wall, and he cried out, but his dad was still angry. He saw it in his narrowed eyes and raised fists. Craig tried to get away but there was nowhere to go with the wall at his back and his father in front of him.

I could cry. I felt so bad for him, I'd forgotten that I had felt so bad after all the shit he pulled with Manny, though Manny wasn't exactly innocent.

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It was Paige's birthday party, surprise party that her spazzy boyfriend had been planning for a month. Craig wondered around before the party started, helping his girlfriend decorate. His girlfriend: Ashley Kerwin. Ex-goth punk rock girl extraordinaire with her jewel blue eyes and smoky make-up, who could resist her? And Craig, troubled moody boy with two dead parents and a violent past, shying away from commitment so he wouldn't get hurt. Who could resist him?

They were the perfect couple.

The party was going full swing, songs pulsing around their heads, teenage bodies swaying and moving to the music, and Ashley drags Craig into a deserted bedroom.

"Hey," she says, smiling her slow sexy smile. She tugs on his shirt and pulls her to him.

"Hey," he answers back with a smile of his own, wide smile, sleepy eyes, his breath beginning to quicken.

"I love you," she says, and holds her breath for his response. He looks away, trapped.

"Don't you love me?" The hurt has crept into her voice, the verge of tears voice.

"Ash," he says, not looking at her, his voice thick. His eyes are like a wild animal's eyes when a fire is coming, tearing up the scenery in the orange blaze.

"Okay, that's what I thought," she says, her voice and her eyes cold. She turns on her heel and walks away, leaving Craig to stare after her.

She's gone, and Craig goes back to the party, looks around. In the corner he sees Manny Santos, dark haired girl with love sick eyes, but he shakes his head and heads for the door. Manny sees him leaving, sees he's upset, and sees her chance.

Outside, the night air crisp and dry, Craig rubs his arms through his thin sleeves and Manny toddles after him in her high heels.

"Craig, Craig, wait…"

He stops, lets her catch up with him.

"Craig…"

"Not now, Manny," No patience for her, and she tugs on his sleeve anyway.

"What's, what's wrong?" she says, and he seems so perfect to her, his full lips she just wants to bite, his curly hair hanging over his forehead and curling behind his ears, touching his collar.

"Oh nothing. I just screwed up again, and again, and again…" his voice rising and tears starting to fall, and Manny stares at him and knows Ashley did this, Ashley hurt him.

"That song you sang in the gym-"

"You heard that?"

"Yeah. And if someone sang that song for me I'd be so happy for a long time, forever. If Ashley can't see that…"

Second chance girl, if he can't have Ashley at least he can have her. She follows him back to his house, to his garage where there are no step-fathers or little sisters. There isn't a bed but there's a couch, and it will do.

Ewwww. I can't describe them having sex but I know they did that night, because that is when Manny got pregnant. That's when Craig went a little nuts, wanting to have a family and everything, although it's been done. My mom did it.

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Back together with Ashley, and this time it's better and right and he won't screw it up again. No more cheating, no more Manny Santos. Things weren't that great elsewhere, their friend Jimmy was in the hospital and might never walk again, their friend Spinner was ostracized because he caused it, he got Jimmy shot, he might as well have pulled the trigger.

Despite this Craig felt good, real good. He had a million ideas for songs and schemes flying through his head, staying up all night writing songs, getting more done than he ever had before. Energy. Inspiration. Maybe it was because of Ashley, because he was in love for real this time and wasn't afraid to tell her.

Spinner and Marco were mad that he's walked out of the recording session but they didn't understand that Ashley was more important, Ashley was everything. They threw the CD's at his chest and walked away and he watched them go, and Ashley leaned her head on his shoulder and he knew that it was okay.

Her dad was getting married and he had to go, had to dress up fancy and impress Ashley and her family.

Jeez, getting tired. Just writing about Craig was tiring, I didn't know how he lived that life and wasn't exhausted. I knew he was bi-polar, knew he freaked out and beat up Joey and ended up in the hospital. But right now I was just too tired to write about it, maybe later. Besides, it's all fiction anyway. Kwan was right, it was all fiction and fragments. Sometimes that was all you got, even in your own life.


	2. Chapter 2

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Thoughts racing through his head so fast…now he couldn't slow down. Marrying Ashley seemed liked a glitteringly good idea. Marrying her, being a husband, having something of his own for once. Jimmy had said he had time for that but Jimmy didn't realize that time was only now…you had to do what you wanted now or it could slip away.

I smiled, having a little fun with this assignment now. I didn't know if that was what having bi-polar was like but it was a guess. If it was wrong Kwan could sue me. I knew this part of Craig's bi-polar saga from Manny. At heart Manny was still a gossip, and I think she told me almost everything she knew about Craig.

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Ashley's dad and his partner stood at the alter, the minister giving a speech. Craig wasn't quite following it but he was gazing at Ashley in her fancy dress and her fancy hair, he could see the blue of her eyes even from here. 'I love you, Ash,' he thought, nearly mouthing the words. 'I love you,'

I blinked. Jeez, writing about it this way it was starting to seem that he really did love her, and marrying her was starting to make sense. Maybe I was getting in the head of my character. When I heard about this mess of his regarding marrying Ashley and all I'd thought it was insane. Marrying someone your junior year in high school? It made no sense. But now I was starting to see. His parents were both dead, he felt left out and alone and, despite Joey and Angela, that he didn't have a family sometimes.

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Kate, Ashley's mom, stood and made a toast at the reception. Ashley sitting next to him, smiling at the love her dad had found, smiling at the love they had together. Craig stood to make a little speech of his own, Ashley tugged on his sleeve, "It's okay," he said.

Manny told me about his speech at the reception, Ashley freaking out and all the looks of stunned dismay on the guests' faces. I could kind of picture it but couldn't quite get it right. Maybe the violence later on would be easier to write about.

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All he wanted to do was get out of there. The smell of the fresh paint in his nose, his eyes red from crying. He'd really screwed things up with Ashley now. He headed for the door. Joey stopped him.

"You're not going anywhere. Something's wrong,"

"No. I'm fine. I'm fine," he shook his head and tried to get by Joey but he stood in his way, pushed him back.

"You're not leaving," Joey said, and pushed him again.

"Don't do that," Craig said, remembering all the times his father had pushed him and he was too young and scared to push back. But not anymore. No one would push him anymore. He lunged at Joey, shoving him to the ground and raised his fist and pounded on him, like all those times his father had raised his fist and punched him, and the person he was actually hitting began to blur in his mind as he felt Albert hitting him with the belt and kicking him and shoving him against walls and he hit back, finally.

"Craig, Craig, stop!"

Someone held his arm and he turned, Ashley.

"Oh my god you came back even after all those things I did…you came back,"

I sighed, tapped my pen against the desk. Maybe it was that way. Who knew?

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Joey's cuts and bruises making him feel guilty, 'I did that,' he thought with a dawning horror. How different was he from his father? Violent, just like Albert. The violence was in him. Joey wasn't mad, stubbornly understanding of it all. This might have been like how Albert felt after he had, after he'd…he'd beaten him maybe this was how his father felt, racked with guilt and sorry beyond words.

Hospital waiting room, off white walls and people rushing around. Joey looked at him and smiled a sad understanding smile and Craig buried his face in his hands and started to cry.

I wondered if Craig would be mad if he knew I was writing about him for this assignment.


	3. Chapter 3

I'd seen a movie a few years ago about kids in a psych ward, I think it was called "Manic". It was pretty good. It was all I had to go on for what his psych ward experiences might have been like.

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Craig walked into the common room or group room that had white walls and white floors and a couch kind of floating in the middle of the room, a table off to the side. Seemed like a normal enough room, but there was the locked door that buzzed people in and out and the window was protected by a little cage. There were the staff people who wore staff shirts and had a key ring attached by those retractable leashes like some people had for dogs. Craig was very aware that in this situation he wasn't one of the people with the keys.

He looked around at the other patients. The girl with the dark lipstick and charcoal eye shadow and cut marks up and down both arms, crisscrossed slashes. Like Ellie, he thought. He saw the boy with the shaggy light brown hair and dull expression. The boy with the crew cut and the quick temper. He thought he wasn't like these people, he wasn't like them. Why did he have to be here?

I shrugged. Maybe. But that movie was probably set in California. If you went by the movies 90 of everything that ever happened happened in L.A. Was it the same in Toronto? I didn't see why not, why it couldn't be.

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The blond with the pale blue eyes as large as eggs shoved him lightly, just one shoulder, throwing him off balance.

"What's your problem, huh, Manning?" the kid said, and Craig figured he probably outweighed him by 100 pounds.

"Nothing," Craig said, trying not to get angry. This kid had it out for him, kept making snide comments, kept going for his weaknesses like some trained pit bull. Craig had tried to avoid him but hadn't been too successful, it wasn't that big of a place.

"Huh?" the kid said, and Craig noticed how fat his face was, how odd the pale blue color of his eyes was. And the kid shoved him again but harder.

"Leave me alone!" Craig said, and shoved back, just like he had shoved his father outside the restaurant. Despite his weight it knocked the kid off balance and Craig smiled, but he came back swinging.

Ah, I didn't know. Writing like this was making me tired, a funny kind of tired I'd never been before. It was like some furnace was burning somewhere inside of me. And I guess Kwan was right, Craig wasn't real anymore.

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The feeling of bruises healing was familiar. It brought back his worst memories. The appearance of a black eye and bloody lip was not familiar, and gave his face a foreign appearance. He looked in the mirror at himself and whispered, "who are you?"

He'd lost whatever paltry privileges he'd accumulated, he'd had to go to extra counseling sessions and anger management. He didn't even bother to tell them that the other kid started it. They saw what they wanted to see. What they wanted to see was that he was sick and violent and out of control. Maybe they were right.

I smiled. I kind of liked that. Kind of. But I thought about Craig again, thought about all I could imagine based on the little I knew and I felt kind of bad for him. Shit. He was beaten, his parents died, he was mentally ill, his girlfriend had an abortion. Did anything go right for him?

It occurred to me that there was another side, a more positive side I'd sort of ignored. But what was positive in his life? Moving in with Joey, that had been positive. Dating Manny again? I didn't quite know how positive that was. Music. That seemed to be a positive thing.

**Author's Note: **Hi, just a quick author's note. I'm aware that I used "pounds" for weight instead of kilograms or whatever the metric thing is, and I'm pretty sure they use metric in Canada...so it kind of busts the illusion if you happen to use the metric system. Sorry. So let's say he outweighed him by 50 kilograms, maybe.


End file.
